Hey, guys. This is Kiera. Sorry for the long Hiatus. So much stuff was going on. But I have a new story that might peak everyone's interest as it explores the dark side of a relatively sweet and innocent character. I'll let you discover what I mean. ;D Please enjoy 'Mentally Defective' and do tell me what you think! Thanks a million~

- Germany.

Chapter One

America lifted his head slowly. He felt groggy and numb everywhere. As his focus swam in and out, he saw the building. It was large, white and very welcoming, but he knew it couldn't be good.

America clenched his fists slightly, and in that action, he began to feel the heavy hands on his shoulders. Alfred lolled his head to see who had a hold of him. On his left was a large black man with an unreadable expression on his hardened face. On the right was a large white man who had a small smile upon his profile. Both were dressed completely in white, but the white man had a small blood stain on his chest in the shape of a hand. Suddenly, a feeling of panic shot through America.

He summoned any strength he could pull out of the foggy haze of his mind and tried to run out of the grasp of the two men. They only jerked him back violently to where America nearly fell to the ground. They continued walking closer to the building.

America wanted to say something but his tongue was heavy, so anything he attempted to say came out slurred. Alfred kicked his feet and screamed as loud as possible. He didn't understand what was going on, but for some reason he knew he was incapable of rational thought. He thrashed and screamed until the black man stopped. The white man soon followed suit and both stared him down deeply. America glanced from face to face repeatedly, trying to determine who is more dangerous. His eyes locked onto that odd smile of the white mans and he punched him right in the lip. The mans grip faltered and America teared away from both of them, or so he thought.

Alfred was whipped right into the black man's chest and he was surprised. But then he remembered the black mans grip on his arm and he grimaced. Before Alfred could recompose himself, he was thrusted onto the shoulder of the black man with the other following close behind. The mans lip was bloody but that smile of his had never faltered. America was confused, but a searing pain in his right hand made him yell out. He looked down at the affliction and his eyes widened. His hand was wrapped up tightly and the gauze was extremely bloody. He could practically see it pulsing as the pain shot through his arm. What ever wound he had in his hand was just made worse when he punched his current pursuer. What had happened?

As the man carried Alfred into the building, the sun disappeared and the only thing America could see was darkness. The air around him was cold and smelled sickly-sweet. He closed his eyes as the smell made his head swim and the world around him spun. He was starting to feel extremely nauseous when suddenly all movement had stopped.

America was sat down on something firm and sturdy, and then he was forced to lie down. He felt something cool come across his wrists, ankles and torso, and then he felt a warm hand lightly touch his forearm. Alfred tried to move his head, but something was restricting him from doing so. And then a voice came from in front of him.

"I never expected to see you here, Alfred..." The hand moved up to touch his face. "You always seem so confident and ready... But I suppose that became your downfall. Am I right, poor soul?"

America couldn't answer. The smell was becoming too much to bare, and he could barely focus on the voice.

"Right. I'm sorry to see you here, actually. But when someone is in need of being healed, I must heed to the call... I'm sure your friends will be happy to see you, but I will have to have a bit of a- talk- with them before I allow that to happen," the voice moved a bit farther away, but it returned with a clinking sound. Like someone was flicking glass. "Now, Alfred, you are going to feel a small pinch and are going to get very sleepy..." Something sharp pierced America's flesh in his wrist and and unpleasant feeling took him over.

"Ah, there we go. Don't worry, we'll see eachother again. Just try and relax, eh?" And then the voice was gone. America's eyes widened as realization flooded his senses. He didn't recognize the voice before because he was so disoriented.

Alfred felt the anesthetic take him over as he slowly became unaware of the outside world. The last thing he was thinking before he was pulled under forced sleep was that the voice belonged to Matty.